An excerpt from my article about Barry Island, Wales:
“ …‘Did you notice the train going slower over the bridge?’ My mate and host asked later in the day. I hadn’t really thought anything of it at the time. ‘The bridge is actually condemned, so the train can’t go any faster than like 5 miles per hour over it,’ he says with a chuckle. ‘It’s rusted to shit, could collapse at any moment, but as long as they go over it slow they reckon it will be alright.’ I could be wrong, but something told me that you couldn’t get more typically Welsh than that… welcome to Ynys y Barri.
I walked half way up the hill from the near abandoned train station, passing the entrance to the famous Pleasure Park on the way, being meet by a typical slice of what could be described as stereotypical Barry Island. I look left and right and then finally spot my hosts unmistakeable bobbing figure ambling down the hill towards me, sporting a typical swagger that told me he was completely at home in his surroundings. After our pathetic attempt of a usual blokey type greeting of a rough hand shake, Rik leads the way back up the steadily sloping hill and I start to get my first real look at the bustling metropolis that is Barry Island.
Quiet and fairly clean streets wend their way through rows of quiet and fairly clean houses all in not too dissimilar styles of architecture; people in varying coloured jackets are fighting with leashes attached to eager dogs as they started their afternoon walks. Sea gulls cawed from the edges of eyesight and I’m given yet another reminder that I am by the sea… ”